Black, White, and Everything in Between
by bluheat
Summary: Mikazuki Hisoka has always been called weak. When she moves to Shitenhouji, she finds herself drowning in her troublesome past and at odds with her even more dangerous future. Can the team of jokes pull her to the surface before she is swept away?
1. Quiet Roar

****Disclaimer: I do not own PoT. Duh.****

So, I'm trying this new fic out. This is a drastically different writing style from Swimming with the Big Fish, and I would love some feedback of what you guys think! This is developed from my one-shot I posted earlier; if you're curious, feel free to go take a look. It's mostly from Shiraishi's perspective.

**This is the story about a girl who doesn't know what love really is and a boy who isn't really sure what normal girls are really like. This girl is drowning in her own past. Can he pull her out of the water before he too sinks below the waves?**

Oh, and roe2, thanks for helping with my other fic. I saw that you were a Shitenhouji fan, so I hope you like this ;)

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><p>Shitenhouji was a school in the middle of Osaka. Known for their comedic background that supported their impressive academic and athletic record, the school churned out hundreds of people yearly who dominated in many industries. Shitenhouji prepped for the future well-rounded, and although it did not have the same amount of money as the famed Hyotei Gakuen school or the demanding rigor of Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku, the laughter and smiles that adorned the halls was deemed a healthy alternative by the principal, who thought those pressure cooker schools were unnecessary for youth.<p>

Therefore, Mikazuki Hisoka found herself slated down to attend the school that was the opposite of her forced personality. She could not remember the last time that she had truly laughed. Perhaps it had been when her brother snorted chocolate milk out of his nose during his tenth birthday. Nevertheless, she would have attended the first day of her third year at Shitenhouji, if the _said brother_ had not been sick.

"Nope," he coughed weakly, sweating as he clutched at the blankets on top of his body while he twirled his favorite knife expertly in his hand. "Not going to school."

Hisoka rolled her eyes, deciding that if her brother was not going to attend the first day, she would not either. And by that, she missed the first day, second, and finally decided on the third that she was completely fed up with her brother's immune system and that she was going to visit the school, brother or no brother. Not caring for the scolding that would await her if she left home base without her sibling-come-bodyguard, she slipped out of the house and took the short bus ride to school.

Her quiet nature had grown even more hushed as she explained to the principal in the least amount of words necessary that her brother was sick and she was to take care of him. The principal smiled in that jovial nature of his and offered to show her around school grounds. She silently agreed and trailed next to him that early April morning, passing by several students who were hurrying into the school before classes began. She was just passing by the gate as she heard a _THUMP_, the unmistakable sound of a body hitting wood.

She turned just in time to see a silvery-brown haired teenager with a bandaged arm flop to the ground, backpack still grasped in his hand. Hisoka quickly looked away, not sure if he hit his head against the arch on purpose, and not wanting to embarrass the person if it was not. She passed right in front of him, looking straight ahead, as the principal turned back.

"Ah, Shiraishi! Just the person I was looking for!" he exclaims as he pulls the teenager in front of Hisoka. "He's the captain of the boy's tennis team," the principal clarifies.

Hisoka's throat constricts, contorts, and spits out a word willingly. Something about him forced her to speak unnecessarily; she could have easily given her usual nod, but instead she speaks of her own accord, "Pleasure."

Shiraishi's eyes wander over the face partially covered by the ebony hair and nods.

"Shiraishi, do show our new student, Mikasaki Hisoka around," the cheerful principal calls, walking away.

Shiraishi's mouth quirks upward and Hisoka can tell it is fake. If she did not know better, she would have thought that he was internally laughing at her, her appearance, and her quiet nature. But she did know better, and could tell he was just displeased with her in general.

So she says nothing, even though her mouth is itching to talk for the first time in a while. She listens obediently, like she always does, as he explains the traditions of the school gate, the importance of laughter, and the club activities. He specifically adds about the placement of the tennis team at nationals. It is not until the end of the personal tour when he points her towards the main office does she break her normal silence.

"Thank you," Hisoka bows, surprised by the sound of her own voice. She had voluntarily used it for the first time in months, maybe even years. She tucks the straight ebony locks behind her ear before fleeing to the main office, brownish eyes with a green tint sharp enough to cut steel.

Mikasaki Hisoka prided herself as being levelheaded and absolutely average, even if she really wasn't with her background and her silence. It was her job to blend in, to be _normal_, or at least to act like it. Her brother talked enough for the two of them and she was completely happy with that. He was the outgoing one, the one who stood out, and the one who was full of bubbly laughter. And that was always okay with her. _Always_.

But then, why did she want to open her mouth?

* * *

><p>Oshitari Kenya's head turned as the door slid open, revealing Shiraishi, which was unusual in itself because it was the middle of the first class and Shiraishi was <em>never<em> late. Even Yamada-sensei turns in middle of scribbling equations, incredulous in seeing one of the best students in the school daring to be late.

He bows, and hands Yamada-sensei a note, "I am sorry. I was helping the principal with something and the note is proof from the principal himself."

Yamada-sensei smiles in understanding and gestures for him to take a seat. He does quietly, not wasting energy in plopping his body down similar to everyone else.

"And here I was," Kenya teases with a murmur, "thinking you were with a girl."

"Well I was," Shiraishi whispers back.

Kenya promptly drops the pen he was twirling between his fingers, shocked, "You _were_?"

"The principal asked me to show this new girl around," Shiraishi adds hastily.

Kenya's face morphs from unbelieving glee to rolling eyes, "Why do I bother getting excited every time you mention a girl? Was she cute, at least?"

"She was breathing, and walking, and had no visible abnormalities," Shiraishi answers with a wry smile. "So for you, that is a yes."

Kenya snorts and Yamada-sensei glares at him. "May I help you, Oshitari-san?"

"No, sorry," Kenya responds, pretending to be studying the text in front of him.

"It could do you well to learn from Shiraishi-san," she reminds him, thoroughly annoyed.

"Yes sensei," Oshitari answers, eyes closed and hands clenched into fists under his desk.

And with that, she turns back around and explains the basics of logarithmic functions, selectively deaf to Shiraishi laughing softly at Kenya and Kenya's frustration.

* * *

><p>A few minutes after Hisoka arrives at her disguised house, she was informed that her father is calling her and her brother for a meeting. Meeting really meant scolding, a highly formal and public chastising.<p>

Mikazuki Hisoka fumbled with the belt around her waist, wrinkling the delicate silk of the kimono. She curses to herself as she secures it tighter than she ever had before, not used to the lack of stomach that had been there previously. The white, flowing material turns to a light pink at her feet while the fabric rustles with every step. She slides her feet into the traditional footwear, the geta sandals, before walking out of her room to join the person who she considered her brother.

Another teenager is waiting for her, leaning against the doorframe, hand mussing the slightly spiky blonde hair with a blue streak behind the ear, barely noticeable unless one looks very closely. The previous sounds of his wheezes and coughs had disappeared over the course of the last few days and his swollen, red nose was the only hint that anything had been wrong with him. He straightens up at the sight of the girl clad in a kimono, "I have been waiting for you."

Mikazuki says nothing and blinks in acknowledgement.

"Come on," he grimaces, tugging at the leather jacket that conceals a sheathed knife and his favored gun, a holstered Berretta M9. "The sooner we get this done, the better."

She blinks again.

He turns and walks along the lengthy hallway, hands barely swinging and striding silently, feet not making a sound as Mikazuki steps after him, the geta sandals gently tapping against the marbled floor of the underground passage. With every gentle click from her feet, she can remember the berating from every moment she had embarrassed her father.

She had been too big in comparison to her classmates?

She was criticized in front of her father's men.

She had been found in a closet during the school day, bruised and dirty? And the witnesses who had seen her bullied claimed they had seen nothing?

She was disparaged, her father spitting on her, saying he never wanted someone so weak.

She had dyed a red streak through her hair?

That was one of the worst punishments of all. She had been forced to go through the paperwork for her father's work, noting the terrible things that she had become immune to.

People had once said her father was a man of great dignity and honor, trapped in a position that required him to be ruthless. Hisoka had memories of her father from when she was young; the smiling, clean-shaven man who played with her and took in an orphaned boy was a stark contrast to the constant scowl that now adorned his face along with a scar stretching from the bottom of his right eye and extending to the ear. The hope and trust she had for her father was long gone, save for those fleeting moments of optimism.

And now? She would probably be yelled at publicly for disobeying the fundamental rule.

_Don't go anywhere, **anywhere**, without Ren._

Ren had turned from a small orphaned boy with puffy eyes and dirt streaks on his face to a strong and muscular teenager, Hisoka's bodyguard, Hisoka's brother. He had been trained in hand-to-hand combat along with several other forms of fighting, told that his sole purpose was to protect Hisoka at all costs.

So Ren did, most of the time. He shielded her from all physical threats, save for the previous bullying because the girls at Hisoka's previous school were cunning enough to distract and lure him away. It was the mental threats that penetrated right through Ren and hit Hisoka in the head. All the deaths, the gruesome dealings, the crime, Hisoka quietly analyzed the information and stored it away in her head, becoming more stony by the day. Ren selectively ignored these things, knowing the effects they would have on him psychologically, and therefore became slowly immune.

In a sense, they were the perfect pair. Ren had the ability to protect the two and Hisoka was beyond value in her ability to analyze and synthesize. Separated, they were opposites, water and fire. Ren was perceived to be the flames that only Hisoka could douse with her typically stoic and yet fluid nature. Ren knew that was completely wrong though. Hisoka was the inferno between the two of them; burning mind and silent roar could only be complimented by Ren's calming temperament. In a sense, the difference between the two was apparent as the difference between black and white. Black was known to be deadly, evil, mysterious, and was a barrier to light. But rather, Ren was the white; his mind still seemed pure with everything he had seen. His color shined brightly from him, the color of protection and encouragement. Without each other, they were useless. Without protection, Hisoka could be killed at any time. Without analyzing, Ren probably would have not survived to the age of fourteen, almost fifteen.

Ren and Hisoka pause before the large wooden door lighted dismally in the underground passage. Hisoka winces at the lack of light as two heavily armed men push open the wooden door and the pair stride through. The walk forward to the raised chair in the middle of the heavily seated room, covered with elegant furniture, probably bought by money that wasn't rightfully owned by the Mikazuki family.

The several men and the few women who were seated turned to see Ren and Hisoka stride past on the rug that led up to the raised chair. A few smiled, ready to see the girl berated and the boy praised. The monthly routine never failed to cheer them up from the otherwise depressing line of work.

The two bow in front of the raised chair, and their father lifts a single eyebrow, acknowledging their existence before beating it down, "Why did you leave without Ren?" he asks softly, slumped back in the seat, a hand on his chin. Hisoka bit her lip, knowing that a quiet father meant an angry father.

Well, in her case, everything meant an angry father.

"She went to go visit the new school," Ren answers for Hisoka. "I was too sick to."

"And I suppose she thought she could get away, _unharmed_, if someone decided to kidnap her?"

"I-well-she probably did use public transportation."

Hisoka found herself mentally retracing her journey to the school and back. She indeed did use public transportation and was in the sight of at least twenty normal-looking people at one time.

"It was the _one_ _rule_ that she was never to disobey. What? Does she think that now that she has lost twenty kilograms, she can simply run from attackers who would be bigger and faster than her?" the volume slowly increased as Hisoka and Ren's father ranted.

Titters of laughter broke out at the tirade intended to embarrass Hisoka. Instead of her normal blush and attempts to make herself look smaller, she raised her head and looked her father straight in the eye. She had never truly disobeyed her father; she usually followed the rules, making sure that the fundamental and most important rule was never broken. And yet, she felt so empowered when she did.

"Yes, I did," her voice flows throughout the room.

Ren's neck practically snaps to look at his sister's face, as if he could not believe that she actually spoke by choice. And he really could not believe it. Even their father raises his eyebrows in surprise as gasps echo in the room. No one had heard her speak in years, especially in front of her father. The plush seats and decorated walls had seen so much blood, death, but they had not seen Mikazuki Hisoka speak.

Oddly enough, the head Mikazuki tips his head back and laughs. Everyone else is silent for a full two minutes as he expresses his amusement, wiping tears of mirth. Finally, he wheezes, "Goodness. And I thought you had turned mute. I didn't know that you were silently growing a backbone."

Hisoka's eyes narrow, suspicious of her father's response that did not include yelling, threats, and reminders of her responsibility.

"Very well," he turns his head slightly to address Ren. "You can train her if you want. That's what you wanted, right?"

Ren's jaw drops at the granted request and Hisoka reaches out with her hand, shutting it, realizing that in that amount of time, someone could have hurled a hemlock pill down his throat. She blinks, annoyed and thinking that maybe she should not have spoken. Yes, she was no longer being berated, but did she really want to be trained in fighting? It meant more freedom, but it could also mean a life of more danger.

And Hisoka really did not like danger.

Ironically.

* * *

><p>Hisoka stripped her kimono off and replaced it with the usual running clothes before departing from her above ground room and searching for her brother. She found him munching on something that looked suspiciously like her favorite biscuits. Eyes narrowed, she purposely lets him hear her footsteps.<p>

He drops the bag and stops mid-chew.

"I'll buy new ones. I promise!" Ren begs.

Hisoka makes a sound from the back of her throat that makes Ren _know_ that he better get on his running shoes fast.

And so he drops the package of biscuits and sprints to go pull on his shoes. He returns to find Hisoka, empty-handed.

"You hid it," Ren moans. "Didn't you?"

Hisoka frowns. Did he really expect her not to?

She slides her cutting-edge phone from her pocket, and presses a few toggles. Within seconds, upbeat running music is playing as the two exit from the normal-looking house that disguised the trapdoor leading to the underground crime-ridden place that had become part of their lives. The two jog off side-by-side, breathing in sync in the evening air.

"You know," Ren interrupts the music playing. "You could join the track team at the new school."

Hisoka shakes her head. She is supposed to act normal, to_ be_ normal. She was not particularly fast, but being athletic was not average.

"Screw being average," Ren's declaration interrupts her thoughts. "Be yourself for once."

Yeah, her silent, ostracized self.

"I am thinking of doing football again," he announces.

Of course he would do football. He was the best one on the team in their previous school while people laughed at Hisoka for being the chubby girl who tried art and failed miserably. Only he could chase the black and white round ball all day, dribbling and shooting into goals with ease just as only Hisoka could paint an apple on a blank canvas and make it look like the Japanese flag. In her defense, the Japanese flag was only a blank canvas with a large red dot in the middle anyways, not that she ever voiced her opinion aloud.

Her father had given up on her fitting in and being normal at her old school, and moved her to a school that was relatively closer and better academically. Why they didn't originally attend there before, Hisoka had no idea. When Ren asked, he had received some bullshit answer of "It will make Hisoka stronger."

As if being stuffed in a dumpster did anything.

No, Hisoka muses, she couldn't possibly do track.

Ren fingers the sheathed combat knife in his pocket. There was no way he would let his sister suffer the same way she had at her previous school.

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><p>Shiraishi Kuranosuke found himself pulled out of his house that evening by Oshitari Kenya who was muttering something about how stupid Zaizen was.<p>

"He wanted to blog about something. Does that sound like an excuse to you?"

Shiraishi supposed anything sounded like a viable excuse to not run with Kenya. Shiraishi knew he was fast, and even he couldn't keep up with the Speed Star of Naniwa during runs. It was hopeless.

And yet Shiraishi found himself being dragged along with Kenya as the sun set, noting that Kenya was going slower than usual.

"What happened to normal speed?"

"I need to work on my footwork and how I place my feet while running," Kenya's nose twitches with distaste. "I usually just run on the balls of my feet but I need more balance."

Shiraishi says nothing, silently agreeing because Kenya had nearly sprained his ankle by falling over three weeks ago. Speed was nothing without balance.

Kenya would agree to disagree. With his motto, 'No speed, no life!' he could take on the world. So what if he had a mishap three weeks ago, making the nurse wrap his ankle? Speed was everything. Oshitari Kenya liked to think he had a relatively simple life; school, tennis, and speed were the only things that truly mattered to him anyways. The toughest decision he had to make was choosing tennis over track, and that was because he wanted the challenge. Something about the ability to be good at two sports appealed greatly to him. Life was black and white for him, and that is the way he liked it.

Kenya jogged alongside with Shiraishi, occasionally brushing strands of bleached hair from his eyes in his typical easygoing manner. It was not until Shiraishi suddenly halts in his tracks that Kenya looks up, startled, and promptly stumbles.

"That's the new girl," Shiraishi whispers as a light breeze blows hair in front of both their eyes.

"Where?" Kenya swipes the light-brown strands to the side.

Shiraishi extends his arm, pointing at the pair running together on the opposite side of the park. Kenya squints at the pair, making out a female and male. The female has her hair swept up, and yet her bangs still covered an eye while the male jogs along, slightly spiky blonde hair moving with each stride as words form on his lips, talking to the girl.

"Heh, she _is_ cute," Kenya points out, continuing their run.

Shiraishi rolls his eyes. "And _taken_," referencing to the male running beside her to the beat of their fast-paced music.

"You didn't deny that she was cute though," Kenya grins.

Shiraishi grumbles to himself and saying something along the lines of "Hibiscus shampoo."

Kenya rolls his eyes at the botanophile. Even _Kenjiro_ talked more to girls, and barely anyone even knew he existed. In fact, Chitose didn't even know Kenjiro was vice-captain until yesterday. Never mind the fact that the vice-captain had ranted to himself in a corner for an hour, but honestly Shiraishi could use a break.

"You could have at least said hello," Kenya protests as they jog past the park. Shiraishi says nothing and keeps running.

* * *

><p>"You know those two boys were looking at you, right?" Ren pants as the rap part of the song comes on.<p>

Hisoka knew and she recognized one as they had jogged past, the unmistakable silvery-brown hair dancing with every step. Hisoka's throat ached for her to say something but she didn't, not wanting to croak to a person who would probably not recognize her. Why this person made her want to speak again, she had no idea. It made no sense.

She pushed the thoughts of Shiraishi Kuranosuke out of her mind as Ren pulled out his sheathed knife.

"They scared me at first, you know. I thought I might have to get my hands dirty." he remarks before sliding the knife back into his jacket pocket.

Hisoka rolls her eyes. Why did everyone she know have to be so violence-happy?

Oh wait, their father ran an underground organization of hired assassins. That's why.

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><p><strong>I really hope you guys liked the first chapter! Please tell me your thought, criticisms, anything!<strong>

**I can promise that all of the Shitenhouji players will be shown in the story. I really love the Shitenhouji players; they are like a breathe of fresh air to the serious schools **

**I will be working on this fic along with Swimming with the Big Fish, so expect both! They are drastically different in both writing style and characters and I can't help but like both of them. So please stay tuned! **

**Also, I would like to give a special thank you to roastme and The Mysterious Mr. Anonymous and .37 along with a few others for supporting this fic. **

**Thank you! Please follow, favorite, and review!**


	2. 5:58

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT. Duh.**

I definitely did not expect that much love for my first chapter. Thank you so much!

**This is the story about a girl who doesn't know what love really is and a boy who isn't really sure what normal girls are really like. This girl is drowning in her own past. Can he pull her out of the water before he too sinks below the waves?**

Sorry that I have been so busy lately. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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><p>Hisoka pins the waterfall braids behind her ear, letting her bangs cover one eye while the rest of it flows to mid-back. The silk material under the uniform rustles against her torso, protecting it from any injuries or bullets. The special weave could withstand small flying objects and was discreet enough to be hidden underneath the crisp white shirt that was part of the school uniform. Hisoka preferred to think of the thin sheet of silk as an extension of her own body rather than a protective covering.<p>

Turning, she examines herself in the mirror, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the navy uniform for the girls. The simple black and white uniform for the guys was much more suitable for school. Comparatively, the girls' skirt was a bulky navy, with a gray stripe down the back. Hisoka did not doubt that she would rip her skirt on a jagged piece of metal or even by getting out of her seat.

"Come on!" Ren exclaims at the doorway. "We're going to miss the bus! I already made you lunch."

Hisoka slings her bag on her back, stepping delicately around the vanity chair. Ren grabs her hand and drags her out the front door; Hisoka's hair flies behind her as she frantically tries to zip her bag closed over her lunch. The pair pump their legs, chasing down a bus that had just stopped at the corner of the block. The door closes right behind them as the two bend over, panting, clutching poles to keep themselves upright while the bus moves towards its next stop.

Behind the curtain of pin-straight hair covering her eye, Hisoka's brain is calculating as she watches the buildings and trees zip by through the window. Ren's back brushes against hers as he too observes the people seated on the bus carefully while the two stand back-to-back, covering each other. He scans the bus's occupants, noting where his two extra hidden knives are while looking completely ordinary. The elderly couple near the two smiles at him and his face breaks into a genuine grin.

He catches the eye of a middle-aged man peeking behind a newspaper and the two nod at each other. The extra guard sat at his post, looking completely ordinary while checking on the status of the siblings every couple of seconds. The man did not escape Hisoka's eyes as she sweeps over the entirety of the bus and muses to herself.

A flash of irritation runs through her as she realizes the man with a newspaper was an extra guard. She tugs at Ren's sleeve and he turns his head enough to look at Hisoka's face out of the corner of his eye. At the sight of her narrowed eyes, he sighs. "It was necessary, okay?" he whispers.

Hisoka jerks her face away, out of his sight and stomps off the bus as soon as it stops in front of the school. Ren grabs her arm right before she passes through the gate. "Extra precautions, just for a week. Please? I am sorry I didn't tell you before."

Hisoka's eyes soften before turning away. The two pass through the gate, perfectly in step, heads held high as they stride towards the reception office. The very few students in their way scurry off.

The two knew the school floor plan by heart as a safeguard, in case if anything happened within the school. Of course, Hisoka knew Ren did not have it perfectly memorized because he studied it while playing his video games. She huffs, turning him towards the correct direction for the fourth time. The two slip into the office and walk towards the receptionist.

"Ah, you two are the new siblings, correct?" the receptionist smiles innocently.

"That is us, yes," Ren beams back.

"Here are your forms," she slides the two pieces of paper towards the two. Ren grabs a pen and takes both.

"I'll fill yours out," he assures Hisoka. The pen flies across the pieces of paper before he hands it back. The drone of a printer fills the air as the receptionist prints out the schedules and Ren swipes them from her hand.

"Everyone else is at the assembly in the main clearing. You may go and join them. Have a nice day!" the receptionist chirps.

"You too," he shoots her a smile and Hisoka could practically see the young woman swoon. Ren could charm any girl to follow him and his charisma to the ends of the Earth.

Hisoka rips the piece of paper from his hand and scrutinizes it, frowning when she sees her club activity.

_Track._

Hisoka jabs Ren deeply into his side with her elbow.

"Ow!" he groans. "I know you're mad, but that hurt!"

She pulls him towards the stairs and they climb; this time, Ren was the one being dragged. The door to the roof opens with a bang and she pushes him towards the ladder on the rooftop. He climbs the metal easily and she follows him onto a higher level. A quick survey of the surroundings reflects a lack of people, and she notes this before fuming and narrowing her eyes at Ren for the second time that morning.

"I told you, you have to be yourself," Ren rubs at the quickly-forming bruise below his ribs. "I am not letting you join art club again. You couldn't even paint an _apple_ without it looking like the Japanese flag."

Hisoka sulks, pushing away the memory of the embarrassing incident. Sighing, she lets her anger go, thinking that track could actually do her some good. At least she would not have to pick up a paintbrush again; instead, she could just run slower than her normal pace.

"See," Ren assures. "It's not so bad."

Easy for him to say. He was good at football and everyone loved him.

The door to the lower rooftop level opens and the two boys who had been in the park step on to the concrete. The siblings freeze and watch as the two walk to the edge of the rooftop.

"Man, I hate these assemblies," one groans to Shiraishi.

Hisoka bars Ren from pulling out his knife, hand outstretched, signaling to wait. The door bangs open again and several other teenage boys stroll on to the roof. The one that resembles an old man skips over to the other two. Ren flips off the upper level of the roof, not bothering to use the ladder and leaving his backpack behind.

Hisoka drops to a sitting position, feet dangling over the roof as Ren lands lightly on his feet with a swish and tap of his shoes. The guys turn to Ren and he plasters an easy-going smile on.

"And I thought I would be the only one skipping the assembly," Ren muses.

"Nah, we usually come up here during assemblies," the darker-haired one talking to Shiraishi smiles back. "I'm Oshitari."

Shiraishi narrows his eyes at Ren. "Haven't we met before? And where did you come from? I didn't hear the door open."

Ren points to the upper roof level where Hisoka was sitting, feet swinging. She throws Ren's bag at his face, her way of saying "Thanks for leaving me up here."

"Okay, okay!" Ren laughs. "Just jump! I know you don't like heights."

Hisoka shakes her head, not wanting to look improper and not wanting the ugly skirt to rip. It was not heights itself that was the problem. Going up was fine; it was going back down that was the issue.

Ren rolls his eyes, "I will catch you. I always do."

Hisoka opens her bag and gathers a few pens in her fist. Drawing a hand back, she lets one fly and it would have hit Ren in the face had he not dodged.

"Hey!" Ren protests.

Hisoka throws a few more, satisfied by the few that successfully hit him. A few of the teenage boys laugh at the display. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see one that is still frowning; his bandages are wrapped tightly around the fingers laced through his hair.

"I dropped you _one_ time, okay? _Once_!"

Hisoka frowns. Surely it had been more than that. She throws her bag to the lower level of the roof before sliding off the concrete edge.

Suddenly, the door beneath opens and Hisoka drops on top of the boy below, resulting in a tangle of limbs.

"Hisoka!" Ren yells.

Hisoka pries her eyelids open and finds herself looking into redhead's brown twinkling eyes.

"Look Shiraishi!" the redhead yells, excited. "I caught an angel!"

Hisoka wanted to groan. Now what?

Shiraishi quickly takes over and argues with the redhead as Hisoka brushes herself off and stands next to Ren, who worriedly checks for injuries.

"She's not an angel, Kin-chan," Shiraishi shakes his head at the younger boy.

"Yes she is!" he grins. "She fell from the sky, just like they do in manga!" His eyes are wide open, naïve and innocent.

Hisoka wanted to hit this so-called Kin-chan over the head. How dense was he?

"She jumped from the ledge of the roof," Shiraishi points, gently breaking the news.

"But, she's pretty! Just like an angel!"

At this Hisoka punches Ren in the arm. After all, it is his fault that she's in this situation.

"Ow!" he whines. The boys turn towards the two, and Ren grins sheepishly.

"Stepped on a nail?" he shrugs. "Anyways," Ren grabs Hisoka's arm and their bags, "we'll see you guys around."

The two flee from the scene and Hisoka refrains from her urge to bang her face against the wall for dragging attention to herself instead of letting Ren dominate the situation.

* * *

><p>Shiraishi finds himself uncomfortably watching the pair exiting through the door and off the roof. There was something about the two that put him on edge. Never mind the fact that he had not heard the guy land when he hit the concrete of the lower level, but the guy seemed oddly protective of the girl.<p>

This made sense, since the two are a couple.

"Come on Shiraishi," Kenya pulls at Shiraishi's sleeve. "There's no point in thinking about her, like you said. She's taken."

Shiraishi opens his mouth to protest but gives up at the sight of the team. Konjiki and Hitouji are sitting next to plants and admiring them. "Oi, I told you before. Those plants are poisonous."

The Idiot Pair jump away from the plants and Shiraishi sighs, pushing away thoughts of the boy and girl who had been on the roof just moments ago. There was no point in thinking about them. After all, he would probably not see them around.

* * *

><p>"Good morning class! I would like to welcome two new students. This is Mikazuki Ren and Mikazuki Hisoka!" Ito-sensei introduces brightly.<p>

Shiraishi bolts upright in his seat. _Siblings_? They did not even look alike.

"Please take care of us!" Ren smiles while the two bow.

"Please introduce yourselves," Ito-sensei encourages.

"Well, I am Mikazuki Ren," he smiles as the girls scan him, looking at his wide build and his gregarious nature. "We just moved to this school and I play football. My sister is a bit shy, so I will speak for her. She runs track."

Shiraishi could see a flicker of displeasure across Hisoka before she quickly masked it.

"Shiraishi-san! Oshitari-san! Raise your hands," Ito-sensei demands.

The two do after a second of hesitation.

"Go sit behind them."

Shiraishi wanted to hit his head against the wall, but instead shoots a look at Kenya.

"Siblings?" Kenya mouths.

Shiraishi raises his eyebrows, confused as well.

"Now, class. Today we will be reviewing the past tense of English, or the preterite. To begin, we will go over basic verbs and then later perform a few practices with partners, which I will come around and observe. Open your books to page fifty-two and read in partners please."

Kenya flips to the page and groans at the length of the passage before starting to read the non-Asian language out loud to Shiraishi. Other students join into the background noise as the only slightly familiar tongue is stumbled over.

* * *

><p>Hisoka mouths the words of the passage, not bothering to read it aloud. Her eyes flicker up now and then to check how far the teacher was, making sure that whenever he got too close, Ren would be reading and not her.<p>

What did it matter if she did not read it aloud anyways? She understood it perfectly fine. With her father's allies in the United States and Italy, she understood English well enough, even if she failed miserably at Italian. There was something unnatural about that European language that sounded like a person was cursing all of the time.

Hisoka huffs silently, fed up with the assignment. Always the analytical one, she sat back and closed her eyes as Ren droned on, talking about something related to a man called "Rappelseed" spreading "rappel" around on the countryside. She frowned; that couldn't be right. Wasn't it _apple_?

With the sharp _WHAP _of wood on wood, her eyes flutter open.

"Mikazuki Hisoka, since you were sleeping, would you please stand up and give a summary of the passage in English?" The teacher held a ruler in his hand and must have swatted it on his desk. His face was an interesting shade of puce as he thundered in English.

She stood up, obviously awake, and grasped her book tightly before looking up. All of the students in the class had turned to look at her, staring and silently judging at her ability to fall asleep within fifteen minutes of class.

She glanced at Ren, whose hands were fumbling as she realized he was trying to get her out of this situation. Normally, her mouth would be frozen and throat constricted at the idea of talking in front of so many people. Hisoka swallowed, and then marveled at how the hinge of her jaw opened, almost by its own accord.

"Any day now, Mikazuki-san," his lip curls back in a sneer. "Or maybe you should pay attention in class."

She yawns in response, knowing it would tick the teacher off in the worst way, before giving the brief summary in flowing non-accented English, "Johnny Appleseed is a legendary American pioneer who planted apple trees in the countryside of the United States. The fable is that he spread his apples through nurseries and orchards throughout the country, and that the story is partially true as Johnny Appleseed alludes to John Chapman who created his nurseries around the War of 1812."

She sits herself back down and crosses her legs, amazed herself that she got herself to speak. In her last school, she would have easily accepted the consequences for pretending to sleep in class. Instead, she had stood up a teacher and made him look like a fool.

If possible, the teacher's face turned redder as he seethed, "Thank you."

Maybe it was better that she was on the quieter side, otherwise she wouldn't have stopped herself from saying, "You are welcome."

* * *

><p>Ren groans as Hisoka's fingers fly over the keys of the keyboard, munching on the tempura and looking at the computer screen, "Did you really have to do that? We're both good at English at now the teacher will dislike us."<p>

Hisoka nearly snorts. How was a person good at English if they confused apple for "rappel?" Her disbelief is written on her face as Ren frowns.

"It was a mistake, okay? I forgot that it was 'apple.'"

The corner of her mouth nearly lifts up as she flips the hair out of her face, bangs and all, concentrating on the computer screen.

"And do you have to mess around on the computer the first day? We should really make some friends."

Hisoka's fingers stop their dance as she turns to look at Ren. If he wanted to go make friends, he could. She was not stopping him.

"I am not going without you," he continues. "Yeah, I know we have a few classes that are different, but it is best that we stick together for now."

She continues to tap at the keys before pressing the final button, finishing the long string of symbols across the screen. Pressing enter, she watches as the computer scans through the symbols before showing the word "ERROR." She sighs, searching for the bugs.

"I am surprised you talked, you know. I did not expect that."

Hisoka nods in agreement, combing her hair away from her eyes.

"Here," Ren strips the hair-tie he always kept for Hisoka's necessities off his wrist as he bites down on a piece of carrot. Hisoka nods her thanks before taking it and tying her hair out of her face, which she only did when she was serious. Even while running, she preferred the protection that the curtain of her hair provided, even if the majority was tied up.

"Can you-"

Hisoka shoves the extra water bottle that she had packed for Ren towards him before he finishes the question.

"Thanks."

She nods again, nearly smiling. Musing to herself about how they somehow understood each other without saying a word, she presses enter again. The error sign flashes again, making her want to put her head down.

Ren reaches into his school bag and wrapped his hand around his phone connected to headphones. He fastens one end to his ear before offering it to Hisoka. Without looking, she connects it to her own ear as she taps her fingers against her chin, truly stumped by the computer while Ren starts playing a rap song.

The two bob their head, eating their lunch in the school's computer room, mainly reserved for the robotics and computer club. However, it was empty as most of the students ate in either the cafeteria or outside.

"How about you take a break? You have nearly done this for an hour," Ren suggests quietly.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right and her eyes were beginning to blur the symbols together. She pushes herself back from the computer and saves the file on a flash drive which she drops into her bag. Ren swipes it away.

"You will lose this if you don't give it to me. And since when do you listen to my suggestions?"

Her mouth flattens, knowing that he right again. And it wasn't like she _never_ listened.

"No, you really do not listen the majority of the time," he chimes, contrasting her thoughts.

She shoots him a sheepish look before pausing the music and removing the earbud.

"Come on, let's go."

She complies, following Ren out of the room and through the hallways. To any other viewer, it would seem as everything about them was in sync. Every step, every movement, maybe even every breath. The noon announcements played overhead as the two meander, sometimes peeking into a room or two or running away, especially when seeing a guy with glasses cross dress and playing out a romantic scene with someone who had a thick green headband.

The two eventually find themselves in the cafeteria. Hisoka pretends not to notice the curious looks while Ren just jovially smiles back at every glimpse. She pulls the hair-tie out of her hair, wanting to hide behind the strands that could cover her face, and hands the elastic back to Ren. The slightly pulled back hair with the waterfall braids had been long gone due to her discomfort with the looks that were only given to new people.

"Keep it; you'll need it for club activities," he pushes the elastic back towards her.

Shrugging, she snaps it on to her wrist.

"So, uh, do you know how to make friends?" Ren smiles awkwardly, looking at the mass of people with humor laced in his voice.

Hisoka can't help but curl up her mouth into a wry smile. Since when has she made friends?

* * *

><p>Shiraishi pauses before chewing on his rice, listening to something his team members said. Surprisingly enough, Chitose sat with them instead of skipping class like usual. He made a note to tell Kenya that Chitose showed up, meaning that the speed star owed Zaizen money for losing the bet.<p>

"Ah...ecstasy," he purrs aloud at the healthy bowl of rice in front of him.

The other regulars break into a smile at the familiar catchphrase.

Out of the corner of one eye, Shiraishi notices the Mikazuki siblings standing off to the side of the cafeteria; the guy talks to Hisoka and she nods or smiles slightly, not saying a word.

Kenya had laughed after class at her nerve to disrespect the teacher, finding her similar to Zaizen. Sure, it was slightly amusing, but she could have gotten into serious trouble. Nevertheless, it had been a rash decision. He had simply smiled, before thinking how odd the relationship between the siblings was.

"Kuranin, what are you thinking about?" Konjiki's voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Nothing," he quips with a smile. "Has anyone seen Kin-chan?"

"Probably crying about how he lost his angel," the other half of the Idiot pair grins. "Koharu!" he wails, before hugging Hitouji tightly.

"Yu-kun!" the other throws his arms around Konjiki, both wriggling their hips.

"Senpai-taichi, that's disgusting," Zaizen remarks, lip curls as he sits down at the table.

* * *

><p>"Here," Ren hands Hisoka a smaller bag hidden inside his bigger one. "It has all of your track stuff in it. You can thank me later," he waves, walking away towards the guy's locker room.<p>

Hisoka growled. Ren just had to think of everything, didn't he? She was about to use the excuse that she didn't have her shoes, but it was too late for that. Huffing, she pushes open the door to the changing room and changes into running shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and running shoes before shutting the gear into a spare locker.

Thoughts of apprehension swirled in her brain as she tied up her hair on her way to the track, leaving her bangs in front of her face and an elastic headband wrapped around her wrist just in case. Upon reaching the mass of both guys and girls at the track, she sighed, not wanting to talk to the captain.

"Hey, you," someone called out. "You with the black hair."

The majority of the people turned around at that.

"No, you, with the red streak."

Hisoka looked up at that, doubting that anyone else had red in his or her hair.

"Yeah, you, are you trying out? Because tryouts started two days ago."

Hisoka nods and the girl with curled platinum hair sighs, "Fine, we will forget about your registration form. Everyone here has already made the team or is on the team," she explains, pulling Hisoka aside as another girl takes charge of the mass, speaking with authority. "Go run a timed mile, and we will see from there if you can make the cut."

She nods again as the platinum-haired girl clears people off the track.

"Take your mark..." her hand poses over a stop watch.

Hisoka frowns. Was she supposed to do a track start or something?

"Go!"

The bangs in her face fly off with the sudden burst of speed as she paces herself to what feels like a normal pace. Not too fast to stand out, but not too slow to where she will not make the cut. Steady, even breaths escape from her lips as sweat starts to bead on her forehead in the warm April afternoon. Before the first lap is finished, her bangs are plastered to the front of her face, covering up her eyes from direct eye contact. She doesn't slow her pace, giving long strides and relishing the stretch in her calves.

Flashes of when she first started running pass through her mind as she pants, thinking of how she nearly threw up after her first two mile run and how Ren had to hold back her hair as she dry-heaved, chubby legs barely moving her body. It had taken almost a month for her body to get used to running on a regular basis.

Blocking out the noise and stares from the people around the track, Hisoka inhales deeply as her lungs start to ask for more air. _Breathe in. Breathe out._

The silk vest slowly turned more saturated, sticking to her torso, overheating her and causing her to sweat more as she completed the third lap. Her gasps for air were now audible as she continues the pace she started at, legs pumping and her body becoming warmed-up. As she rounded the final turn, the sudden shrill voice of some girl standing on grass cuts through her thoughts, "Now that I made the team, maybe Shiraishi-kun will notice me!"

"Fat chance, he doesn't really notice anyone, including Kondo, who is the pride of the track team."

Hisoka's nose twitches. Nothing changes between schools, really; whether the girls be running after her brother or the captain of the tennis team, there would consistently be the same type everywhere.

Her legs strain as they pass the finish line. Bending over, Hisoka puffs and wipes the dripping sweat from her chin.

"Congratulations," the platinum-haired girl smiles, teeth glinting. "You made the team with a 5:58, which is one of the fastest times this year."

5:58?

Hisoka knew instantly that she had messed up. She had never timed herself before, not finding it necessary to as she ran to lose weight and get in shape. But 5:58? That was fast enough to stand out, especially since she suspected that this girl could tell that she had not put in her maximum effort. Hisoka was not on the ground, lying down and drawing in lungfuls of oxygen, which would show that she had ran as if her life depended on it. But a 5:58? That means she stood out enough to get noticed.

5:58?

One thought flew through her head.

Well, _shit._

* * *

><p><strong>I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review!<strong>

So, for anyone who missed it, I uploaded a chapter to Swimming with the Big Fish a couple of days ago too.

This fic is incredibly hard for me to write, to be honest. Hisoka has a perspective that I'm not used to. There were a lot of OC moments in this chapter than I planned, but I believe that the fic will focus mainly on PoT characters, with the exception of Hisoka and Ren.

**Again, please favorite and review! It helps me keep going :)**


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